


Show Me All the Scars You Hide

by Sohotthateveryonedied



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Three Jokers (DCU)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Heroes in Crisis Fix-It (DCU), Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, JASON TODD'S LOVE LANGUAGE IS TOUCH IT'S CANON NOW, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, M/M, Protective Roy Harper, Romance, Three Jokers #2, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, listen every time i write them roy and jason are always touching each other ok, roy never died because fuck that, they gotta cuddle and hold hands every waking moment, this is so soft oh my gosh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28221231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sohotthateveryonedied/pseuds/Sohotthateveryonedied
Summary: Roy can’t see his face, but he can feel the hitching breaths, the silent sobs that Jason refuses to voice even now when his seams are splitting, when he’s unraveling before Roy’s eyes.“It’s okay, Jaybird.” Roy runs his fingers through Jason’s wet curls, holding him close. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”But Jason shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay.” And that just makes Roy’s heart cleave right down the middle.
Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd
Comments: 13
Kudos: 302
Collections: Dick Grayson Whump





	Show Me All the Scars You Hide

**Author's Note:**

> This is my version of Three Jokers #2 in which Roy never died in Heroes in Crisis and the Jason/Barbara kiss never happened because yuck. 
> 
> Title is from "Stand By You" by Rachel Platten because I couldn't come up with my own lmao.
> 
> Enjoy!!

“Thanks again for taking Lian,” Roy says. “How’s she doing?”  
  
Dinah laughs over the phone. _“The kitchen is covered in powdered sugar, but we managed to make semi-edible pancakes. I’ll give her a bath before bedtime. How was the mission?”_  
  
“Oh, you know. The usual. Gonna have to get a rabies shot after getting bitten by that zombie chimp, but otherwise I’m good.” Roy checked with Constantine to make sure the zombie virus wasn’t contagious, but if he starts frothing at the mouth in the next twenty-four hours, he’s got two middle fingers primed to give that sodding brit the ol’ told-you-so.  
  
 _“Zombie chimps?”_  
  
“They’re chaotic fuckers when they’re in packs. It took hours to put ‘em all down.” A man a few feet away from the 7/11 entrance Roy stands at gives him a strange look. “Mind your business,” Roy tells him. He takes a bite of his burrito. “Anyway, I’ll probably be back by tomorrow morning.”  
  
 _“Probably?”_  
  
“Since I’m already in Gotham, I thought it would be rude not to visit my favorite Jaybird.” It’s been too long since Roy and Jason have seen each other—at _least_ a week, maybe more. Absolute agony.  
  
There’s a beep. “Hang on, other line,” Roy says.  
  
 _“It’s okay, I should be getting back to Lian. Let me know when you’re back in the state, alright?”_  
  
“Yes, ma’am.” _  
__  
__“Talk to you soon, kiddo.”_  
  
She hangs up and Roy answers the new caller. “You’ve got Red-Arse, minus the Red! No, we are not gigolos.”  
  
 _“Roy, it’s Barbara.”_  
  
Roy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Now I feel special. What brings you to my side of the phone tower? If this is about Dick’s birthday party, the only reason I haven’t RSVP’d yet is ‘cause everyone knows Bruce will be there but Ollie’s on another ‘fuck Batman’ kick and I haven’t decided where my loyalty lies yet.”  
  
 _“No, it’s...it’s Jason.”_  
  
“Jay’s birthday is in August.”  
  
Barbara makes a huffing sound, like she thinks Roy needs auditory evidence to know she’s not in the mood to take his shit today. If that was the case, she should have known better than to call in the first place. Number one on Roy’s daily to-do list is to be everyone’s problem, all the time.  
  
 _“Where are you?”_ she asks.  
  
“Outside a crappy 7/11 with the world’s greasiest burrito, why?”  
  
 _“How soon can you get to the South Side?”_ There’s something off in her voice—it’s unsteady in places it never has been, her well-known Oracle demeanor slipping. Roy sobers, humor vanishing in an instant.  
  
“What’s wrong? Is Jason okay?”  
  
 _“Jason’s…”_ Barbara trails off, her voice cracking.  
  
Roy’s heart thuds to a stop. “Tell me.”  
  
 _“It was the Jokers. They...they hurt him. Bruce and I didn’t get there until after, but they had him for at least an hour. They beat him with a crowbar and left him for dead.”_  
  
“Shit.”  
  
 _“Jason won’t tell us what they said to him, but I was there when he killed the first one. The things he said to him...and that was just_ one _of them. I can’t imagine what kind of damage the other two did.”_  
  
“Where is he?” Roy’s burrito is on the sidewalk now, beans and cheese splattered across the concrete.  
  
 _“At my apartment. I’ll forward you the address.”_  
  
Roy is already straddling his motorcycle and kicking the engine to life. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”  
  
 _“Thanks, Roy. I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but you know him better than anyone, and with how hard he got whammied tonight...Bruce and I are out of our depths.”_ Roy can’t begin to wonder all the things that could mean. Whammying Jason is equivalent to giving Superman a paper cut: seemingly impossible.  
  
“How is he now?” Roy has to put conscious effort into keeping his attention on the road and not on the conglomeration of possibilities regarding what those assholes could have done. Roy should have tracked Jason down the second he touched down in Gotham and not left him alone for a second. Partners are supposed to be there for each other. Partners _protect_ each other.  
  
 _“He’s sleeping, but...god, Roy. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this vulnerable before. I’ve never even seen him cry until tonight. Whatever the Jokers did, they stripped away his walls and left him totally empty. It’s like he’s been broken.”_  
  
Roy grips the handlebars so tightly it digs in through his gloves. He wants to ask more, to demand she tell him _exactly_ what happened and what those bastards did. But he can’t make the words come, so instead, he settles on, “Take care of him. I’ll be right there.” He hangs up without saying goodbye.  
  
Roy drives through Gotham’s dimly lit streets, leftover puddles from last night’s rain glimmering on the asphalt. Jason grew up here, brought up and taught by these godforsaken streets. He’s tough because of it—there isn’t one person who’s heard of the Red Hood and doesn’t know that—but even someone as unbreakable as Jason has his weaknesses.  
  
Until now, Roy was the only one who had ever seen those weaknesses up close. Some people wouldn’t believe it, that for someone with such a gravelly exterior, Jason Todd feels more than anyone Roy has ever met. His emotions are a typhoon, riding on the swells of the sea and struggling not to wipe out with every crash. Jason feels things deeply, to their fullest capability. He feels more than anyone Roy has ever met, and it’s one of the many reasons he loves him.  
  
But, as big as his heart is, Jason holds his cards close to his chest. He refuses to let anyone see what lies behind the wall of magma he keeps around himself. It’s a safety blanket, the anger. It’s all he knows, the Lazarus water churning through his bloodstream turning it into the only protection he has. And Roy, for whatever reason, is lucky enough to be granted access beyond those barriers. Jason has shared with Roy parts of himself that not even Bruce knows about, the things dragging on his heart and mind day in, day out. Even when everything else fails, Jason still has those parts of himself—the quiet corners where fear and insecurity lurk, safeguarded until he chooses to open the gates.  
  
And the Jokers just... _took_ that from him. They took everything, now for the second time.  
  
 _It’s like he’s been broken._  
  
The last time Roy and Jason talked, Jay told him all about the trio of Jokers and that he and the other bats were trying to control the situation. Roy wished him luck. Jason said you don’t need luck when you’ve got an M1911 pistol.  
  
Two days later it came along the superhero grapevine that one of the clowns ended up with a bullet in his head. Roy put the dots together himself and tried not to let the others get a whiff of how proud he was. (Not that anyone mourned too deeply; Superman even popped a bottle of champagne.)  
  
Roy makes it to the apartment building in record time. In her text, Barbara added that she and Bruce are off tailing a lead, so it looks like Roy is on his own. Not that he’s complaining. If he saw Bruce right now, he’s not sure if he would be able to restrain himself from clocking him in the jaw just for the hell of it.  
  
Roy’s heart thunders with every footfall as he climbs the fire escape. Babs will kill him if he blows her cover by visiting her place decked in his Arsenal armor, weapons strapped on his back. He’s lightheaded with worry by the time he steps into the dark apartment, eyes scanning for black hair and the face that haunts Roy’s daydreams.  
  
It doesn’t take long to find the bedroom. “Jaybird?” Roy fumbles for the light switch but discovers the newly illuminated bed to be empty, save for a book sitting on the rumpled sheets.  
  
A door opens behind him. Roy turns just in time to see Jason step out of a steaming bathroom. There’s a white towel wrapped around his waist, but the rest of him...god, the rest of him is covered in bruises and torn skin. He’s a medley of purple and red, bandages plastered on whatever flesh isn’t already bruised to the bone. He looks like a piñata carcass, beaten to shreds and left lying gutted in the grass. But beneath it all, beneath the horrors inflicted on him, he’s still Jason. He’s still the strongest man Roy has ever known.  
  
Jason stops in his tracks when he sees Roy. One hand flies to grip the door frame with white knuckles like he would tumble, otherwise.  
  
Roy musters as close to a smile as he can get. “Hey, Jaybird,” he says softly.  
  
Jason’s lip quivers, and that’s all the warning Roy gets before Jason is stumbling into his arms with a barely-there sob. Roy catches him, careful to avoid what bruising he can as his arms wrap around the shaking body, but Jason doesn’t seem to care. He presses his forehead against Roy’s shoulder and grips Roy like losing contact will actually kill him.  
  
Roy can’t see his face, but he can feel the hitching breaths, the silent sobs that Jason refuses to voice even now when his seams are splitting, when he’s unraveling before Roy’s eyes.  
  
“It’s okay, Jaybird.” Roy runs his fingers through Jason’s wet curls, holding him close. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”  
  
But Jason shakes his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever been okay.” And that just makes Roy’s heart cleave right down the middle. He’s clutching Roy’s arm so tightly it hurts, but Roy doesn’t complain. “I killed one.”  
  
“Good.”  
  
Jason pulls back at that. His eyes shine with tears, some unshed and some already streaking down his cheeks. “But—”  
  
“Hey. Listen to me.” Roy cups Jason’s cheek, wipes away the tears with his thumb. “You did a _good_ thing, okay? I don’t care what the others say. You put down a psychopath who would have gone on to hurt more people if he’d been left alive, and I’m _so_ proud of you.”  
  
Jason drops his head back in the crook of Roy’s shoulder, fresh tears wetting his neck. “They’re gonna hate me.”  
  
“They won’t.”  
  
“They already do.”  
  
“Then fuck ‘em. If your family can’t understand all you do for them and for other people, then you don’t need them. We can move to Hawaii and spend the rest of our lives staying at resorts and fighting beach crime, how’s that sound?”  
  
Ordinarily, that would get at _least_ a chuckle from his boyfriend, but not tonight. Jason shivers, says something that Roy doesn’t quite catch. It’s hardly more than a whisper of an exhale against Roy’s neck, lips moving against his skin.  
  
“What was that?”  
  
“It’s...it’s what they told me. First you’re the Red Hood, and then you’re the Joker. That’s how it goes. And they’re not wrong.”  
  
For the first time since hearing the news, Roy is glad there is more than one Joker. That means there are two Jokers left who he can make suffer for what they did to Jason. “Yes, they are. They were wrong, Jay.”  
  
“It’s happened before.”  
  
“I don’t care. You’re _nothing_ like the Joker. You’re good, Jason.”  
  
Jason lifts his head, meeting Roy’s eyes with his own watery ones. “How? How am I any different from them? The Joker hates Batman, and—and so do I. I fucking hate him for what he did to me.”  
  
“That doesn’t make them right.”  
  
“It should.”  
  
“No.” Roy grabs Jason’s chin gently but firmly, forcing him to meet his eyes. “You are _nothing_ like them. The Joker doesn’t care about anyone, but _you do._ You care so fucking much, Jaybird.”  
  
Roy wishes he could make him see—make Jason realize just how magnificent he really is. Where Jason sees only scars and rage, Roy sees past it to all that lies beneath. He sees the love that Jason carries in every breath, the passion that surges through his veins like it’s taken the place of his blood. Roy can’t remember what it feels like to not be inexorably in love with Jason Todd, scars and all.  
  
Jason holds Roy’s gaze, teal eyes glimmering and his dark lashes clumped with tears. His breath shudders, and then he’s leaning forward. He kisses Roy hard, fervently, and Roy’s first instinct is to kiss back. Jason tastes like blood and salt, tears catching on the corners of his mouth. It takes a moment for Roy’s brain to catch up, and he pulls back.  
  
Jason tries to follow, but Roy keeps a hand firmly on his shoulder, panting. “Jason, no.” Jason’s face falls, and Roy would give up both legs if it meant he’d never have to see his boyfriend looking so dejected ever again. Roy backtracks. “I mean, we can’t do this now. You’re...I don’t want to take advantage of you.” He can’t call him fragile. Fragility and Jason Todd aren’t meant to go together.  
  
Jason looks ready to cry again. “Please. Please.” He grips Roy’s shirt as if Roy will disappear if he lets go. _Stay,_ his eyes beg. _Don’t leave me._  
  
Roy runs his fingers through the wet hair at the back of Jason’s neck, combing through the soaked strands. “Hey, baby, look at me. I love you, okay? I’m not leaving you.”  
  
Jason is still shaking. It’s hard to tell if he’s even fully here right now, or if he’s checked out ever since the Jokers got their hands on him. If that’s the case, then Roy has to admit that he’s certainly earned it. And if Jason needs time to go into his own head and recharge, then Roy is prepared to stay by his side and watch over him for as long as he needs it.  
  
“How about we sit down, yeah?” Roy guides Jason toward the bed and sits him down, never separating from him more than two inches. It’s easier to gather Jason in his arms now, hold him as he shudders. He’s careful to avoid hurting him, but Jason still flinches when Roy brushes against a bruise.  
  
They sit there for a while, arms around each other as Roy tries to ignore the hitching in Jason’s chest. He finds himself absently tracing the scars on Jason’s spine, following the ridges with his fingertips. His eyes once again land on the book beside them. He reads the cover with a frown. “What’s this?”  
  
Jason follows his gaze. “It looked...useful.”  
  
“Are the aches getting bad again?” Roy is reminded of nights spent sitting up with Jason, massaging his shoulders while Jay complained about the constant pain, the aches in his joints and the phantom sensation of a crowbar blowing through his kneecap. Roy must have spent hours begging Jason to try painkillers, but he refused every time, plagued by memories of his mom unconscious on the bathroom floor with a needle stuck in her arm.  
  
“Not until tonight,” Jason says. His voice is weak, croaky. “It’s been getting worse.”  
  
Roy doesn’t stop rubbing Jason’s back. “Okay. We can work on that, babe.”  
  
His phone buzzes in his pocket. It hadn’t occurred to Roy until now that he’s still wearing his gear, but he supposes it’s too late for that. Taking thirty seconds to rid himself of his armor and weapons is already too much time spent away from Jason.  
  
He digs out his cell and discovers a text from Barbara. _How is he doing?_  
  
 _I’ve got him,_ Roy texts back, one-handed. _He’ll be okay._  
  
He turns off his phone and drops it on the bed. He wraps his newly freed arm around Jason, pulling him closer. He smells like soap, and Roy finds himself longing for Jason’s real scent: cigarettes, gunpowder, and smoke. “What do you need?” he asks. “Anything at all.”  
  
“Don’t leave,” is all Jason mumbles into Roy’s shoulder.  
  
“I’m not leaving, Jaybird.” He kisses Jason’s temple. “Never.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get this posted before I have to go to work so it isn't as edited as I would like it to be, but let's be real here. Will I actually go back and edit it? Probably not.
> 
> [Feel free to mosey on down to my Tumblr!](http://sohotthateveryonedied.tumblr.com/)


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